JJ Knight and Tristan Hunter bend low, their tattooed arms flexing as they grip each other’s hips, while Johnny Ford stands firm behind them, his dark hair framing a face that doesn’t need words to show what he’s about to do. The one in front takes it deep, his asshole stretched wide as the other drives in hard, fingers digging into the flesh where skin meets muscle. No hesitation, just the wet, rough sound of skin slapping skin and the way the top’s breath hitches when the bottom finally lets out a choked groan.
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